


Birthday Piroshky

by RedChucks



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Conversation, Friendship, Gen, Yuuri is referred to as Katsudon because it's Yuri so of course, teen rating for Yuri's bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26194135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedChucks/pseuds/RedChucks
Summary: After the Rostelecom Cup, when Yuuri has recovered from Yuri's friendly fly kick and the surprise katsudon piroshky, they get to talking and come to a truce of sorts.Or, what happens at the end of the scene toward the end of episode nine, as seen from Yuri P's perspective.(My first ever Yuri!!! On Ice fic!)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	Birthday Piroshky

Yuri looked off across the overpass to the endless sprawl of Moscow city as Katsudon tucked in to his birthday piroshki, not wanting to see what emotion might be blaring out loudly from the Japanese skater’s eyes. Whether is was pity or distrust or disinterest, Yuri didn’t want to see it. He also didn’t want to see the inevitable - Katsudon turning to walk away from him. They’d had their moment; Yuri had been able to share his excitement over his grandpa’s cooking genius with someone who actually understood, they’d been able to commiserate over losing to JJ. There was no reason for Katsudon to stick around and if Yuri didn’t feel like watching someone walking away from him tonight, well, that was his business and no one else’s.

The piroshki that was thrust in his face a moment later made him gasp in embarrassment and Yuri whipped his head around, glaring and ready to give him hell, but Katsudon was just smiling as he chewed, eyes closed in bliss at Grandpa’s amazing cooking, wanting to share. Yuri took the offered piroshki, unsure about the etiquette of the situation - suspicious. He’d just given the bag of piroshki to Katsudon for his birthday after all, it was his present, was it right to eat one? But Katsudon was generous, if nothing else - too generous in Yuri’s mind - and it was probably best not to let him eat all of the piroshkis anyway. This was food for winners and right now they were commiserating over an unfair loss. That and, obviously, Katsudon gained weight like a little piggy and any weight gain would piss off Victor majorly. He would be doing Katsudon a favour by eating one.

Yuri hesitated again, mouth open and piroshki just beyond his teeth. Normally he liked pissing off Victor. It was hard to do and required a good deal of effort. Tricking Katsudon in to gaining so much weight that he didn’t fit in to his gauzy Eros costume would be satisfying, but not worth it in the long run. If Victor got mad at Katsudon the idiot would likely fall to pieces again and run off back to hide in his hot springs until he turned in to a prune. Then Yuri would never be able see him skate to his full potential. And most importantly, he wouldn’t be able to beat him in the Grand Prix Final and look down at him from the winners podium.

Taking a decisive bite of the piroshki Yuri turned again to glance across at Katsudon. He didn’t look so happy anymore, clutching the paper bag to his chest and staring out across the city lights longingly. Like something out of a fucking romance movie, Yuri thought. Gross. He should tell the piggy he was being gross, and that he needed to toughen up. Yuri was the one who deserved to be sad. He’d scored a personal best and still hadn’t won.

“I am sorry you are missing Victor,” he mumbled, surprising even himself. “It is difficult when the one you are skating for is not there to see it.”

Katsudon looked up him in surprise but Yuri hunched his shoulders against it, looking down to focus on the pork and rice in front of him. Grandpa had made them, despite being unwell, so that Yuri would skate his best. He hated the thought that the old man wasn’t proud of him.

“Thanks, Yurio,” came the soft reply, and Yuri tried to remember to scowl at the nickname the Katsuki family had bestowed on him. He actually didn’t mind it when it was coming from Yuko or the triplets, or Mr. And Mrs. Katsuki, or even Mari, though she said it in a teasing, older sister kind of way. As long as the name didn’t catch on outside of the family, he supposed it could be tolerated, but there was no way he wanted to be rebranded again. He’d worked hard to try and become the Ice Tiger of Russia only to reduced again to its kitten. It wasn’t fair. And there was no way in hell he was going to let the world know him as Ice Kitten Yurio. Or worse, The Other Yuri. No, Katsudon was Other Yuri and he would prove it.

Yuri looked across at his rival. He’d been quiet for a long while as he ate but Yuri didn’t mind, even if Katsudon’s voice was gentle and calming and made him strangely homesick. Silence was nice, or better than the yelling he was used to hearing from Lilia and Yakov at any rate.

“I’m mostly worried about Makkachin,” Katsudon told him eventually, catching Yuri off guard and causing him to swallow before he was ready. That’s right, he remembered, Victor’s dog was sick. He’d forgotten about Makkachin and he felt his cheeks heat with what was possibly shame that he hadn’t considered the dog’s welfare much or how Katsudon might be feeling about it.

“I’m sure he’ll be ok,” he responded, though it was hard to speak with the lump in his throat that was definitely from swallowing too fast, and not from any sort of emotion at all. “Victor would have called by now if something bad had happened. Mari would have texted.”

Katsudon just sighed and nodded, the moonlight shining off his glasses and hiding what Yuri guessed were tears at the corners of his eyes. God, this was uncomfortable! So dumb! But it wasn’t like he didn’t know Katsudon was a huge cry baby. It was his own fault for going looking for him after the whole hugging incident. But Katsudon was all alone, on the other side of the world from his family and his boyfriend and dog and Yuri had taken pity on him. It was a lonely situation and one Yuri knew all too well. It was no surprise the guy was crying, Yuri just wished he didn’t have to be the one witnessing it.

“Dammit. Victor loves that dog,” he said through clenched teeth. “He’s had it for years. And it’s not like it’s the first time the stupid mutt has eaten something it shouldn’t.” He looked across at Katsudon slyly, a grin sneaking on to his face. “Guess Victor just has a thing for dumb animals who eat too much.”

He expected Katsudon to give him that mortified look, or to burst in to tears, or run away. He was pushing him and he knew it. Instead Katsudon laughed, like he was surprised but not insulted, and the watery smile he shot Yuri’s way was affectionate.

“I guess so,” he agreed. “Piglets, poodles... kittens.”

Yuri snarled and pushed off the railing, putting some space between himself and the Other Yuri. “Go to hell, I’m not a kitten. I am Yuri Plisetsky, Ice Tiger of Russia, and I am going to prove it to you when I beat your ass at the Grand Prix Finals!”

Katsudon tilted his head, seemingly unfazed by the declaration, or the volume of Yuri’s voice, and smiled at him again instead.

“Like JJ just beat yours?”

Yuri was floored. He wanted to tell Katsudon to shut his stupid mouth but couldn’t even seem to shut his own, which was hanging open mutely, frozen in place by Katsudon’s burn. He was impressed.

A minute passed before Katsudon turned back to look at the lights, leaning on the edge of the overpass and tucking in to another delicious piroshki. With the other man’s eyes off him Yuri felt more comfortable about moving and joined Katsudon back against the rail, looking out at the endless, dark city and the twinkling lights. When a second piroshki was offered to him he didn’t think twice about accepting it and took a large bite, chewing hard before he finally spoke.

“JJ,” he spat, feeling the anger and indignation rising up inside him like a wave. “I hate him so much.”  
Katsudon snorted softly. “I thought you hate everyone.”

“Yeah, well,” Yuri shrugged, the corner of his lip twitching upwards at the gentle ribbing. “It’s a sliding scale, isn’t it? But JJ is definitely the worst. His overconfidence makes me feel sick. Bleh!”

He preened as he heard Katsudon laugh at the face he pulled but hid his pride quickly with another mouthful of piroshki. He didn’t want his opponent to get the wrong idea.

“He is fairly unpleasant, I’ll give you that,” Katsudon agreed with another laugh. “But I can’t really fault his confidence. His quads are pretty amazing.”

Yuri scoffed, no longer able to hide his disgust. “So he has quads. So what? I could do quads when I was thirteen. He has no grace. No imagination. No... beauty! Victor would have wiped the ice with him.” He was barely aware of his fists crashing down on the railing as he spoke, or of the way Katsudon jumped. “I should have wiped the ice with him! And you! Why can you still not perform the quads, Katsudon? I showed you the salchow again and again? Why can’t you do it? We’re supposed to be the best! If you didn’t want to be the best you should have retired! What’s the point of doing this if not to be best? Just to show off to your boyfriend!? To keep Victor to yourself!? What gives, Katsudon?”

He looked across sharply, hair whipping across his face, wanting answers to more than the questions he’d actually asked, rage boiling out of him, making him feel unstable where he stood - snow underfoot making his feet slip and the lights of the passing cars upsetting his vision. He felt like he might explode, like there was panic and pain and anger clawing up his throat, desperate to get out and choking him in the process. In contrast, Katsudon looked calm, which wasn’t fair at all, and Yuri took in shuddering breaths as he watched the other man’s careful, placating movements.

‘He looks like he’s trying to approach a wild animal,’ he thought hazily. ‘And he is. Me. The Ice Tiger of Russia. But I don’t like feeling this way. I don’t like it. I feel unsteady and sick. Calm down, Yuri. Calm down. Calm down.’

It took him a moment to realise that Katsuki was beside him, a hand gently resting on his shoulder, providing the stability that Yuri had felt he was lacking. He was talking low, telling Yuri just to breathe and to concentrate on the air moving in and out of his lungs, and Yuri followed the directions as best he could until his head began to clear.

Eventually Katsuki took a step back, giving Yuri his space, which he appreciated more than he could express. He then waited another minute before turning to look back at the skate rink, still brightly lit behind them.

“You know,” he began thoughtfully, his voice casual enough to pique Yuri’s interest without getting his hackles up. “It’s still hours before my flight back to Japan. And I don’t think I could sleep right now if I tried. Too much adrenaline. If you wanted to come back in with me, to talk me through that quad salchow. Or,” he smiled softly, “yell me through it, I guess. I’d appreciate the help. And the company.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes, searching for any sign that Katsuki was teasing or setting him up for a fall, but as usual the Japanese skater looked disgustingly genuine. He knew he would probably catch hell from Yakov and Lilia for staying out so late and for helping one of his competitors, and it did nothing for his image to look so soft, but he found himself nodding all the same.

“Alright then, Piggy. You need to work off those piroshki after all. I’ll teach you to quad without slamming your face in to the wall. Then we will both beat JJ.”

Katsuki laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment as he realised what Yuri was referring to. “So you saw my stack at the Nationals, huh? Yuko says I was lucky I didn’t break my whole face! In the end it was just a blood nose.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and turned with Katsuki to walk back to the rink. “You and Yuko and your bloody noses! What the hell, right?”

Katsuki just laughed and as they walked and Yuri felt a bounce enter his step. He would teach Other Yuri to do a proper salchow, even if Victor got the credit. It would get the guy’s mind off his dog and boyfriend for a while, which would be good for him, and it would ensure that they could both beat fucking JJ when the Grand Prix Finals rolled around.


End file.
